


Wild Cards

by AXEe



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Romance, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Future Fic, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AXEe/pseuds/AXEe
Summary: A post-"Endgame" AU, Admiral Janeway's plan to convince her younger self to use the Borg's transwarp network to get back home failed, but, now several years after the encounter, Kathryn Janeway will discover that the future is not set in stone...
Relationships: Icheb/Naomi Wildman, Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres
Comments: 124
Kudos: 97





	1. Days to Come

**Author's Note:**

> This idea basically came about from my wondering what the alternate future that "Endgame" hinted at might have turned out if Janeway decided to just take the future info from the Admiral and not use the Borg to get home as well as my outrage over Icheb's death on "Picard" so basically imagine if we saw the "Picard" version of Seven in the last season of "Voyager" hope that makes sense. Enjoy :=)

******

The coffee mug was dented, it’s once-polished surface now pitted and scuffed. Still, it served its purpose, namely ensuring that one Captain Kathryn Janeway got her daily caffeine fix.

Hefting the mug, Seven of Nine studied it, noting the faint scent of coffee emanating from within the (currently) empty mug along with the telltale stains. Looking up as the ready room doors slid open, Seven was still the holding the mug as Kathryn Janeway herself walked in.

“Careful, that’s my favorite mug” she said.

“Is that so?” Seven asked “and here I always assumed that you just had the coffee injected _intravenously_ ” she quipped, setting the mug down.

“That would be convenient, but not as fun,” Kathryn remarked as she sat down “so, what’s on your mind, Seven?”

Sighing heavily, Seven sat down across from her.

“Naomi asked me for permission to start dating Icehb,” she began morosely

Kathryn burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny!” Seven objected (she may have had the tiniest amount of a whine in her tone, not that she would ever admit to that, mind you) “what am I supposed to say her?” she demanded.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Kathryn apologized “it’s just that…well, you looked so serious there, Seven”

“I _always_ look serious” Seven grumbled.

“Not in the last few years you haven’t,” Kathryn pointed out. She gestured to Seven’s simple attire consisting of a dark brown t-shirt and matching trousers and boots with a leather jacket “you’ve stopped wearing your biosuits,” Kathryn continued, ticking the items off on her fingers “you’ve quite literally let your hair down,” she nodded to Seven’s now free-flowing hair “you actually _laugh_ at Tom’s jokes—out loud and in public, I might add—you’ve taken over Neelix’s duties in the mess hall—much the great delight of everyone onboard, myself especially. Also, before you say anything, I _know all about_ the ongoing prank war between you and B’Elanna, so don’t even try to deny it,”

Seven scowled in response before finally—childishly—sticking her tongue out at the older woman.

“There’s that too,” Kathryn added, pointing at said tongue “your attitude towards the chain of command has become more…relaxed in the last few years. More so than it used to be that is”

“Yes, yes, I’m an absolute terror,” Seven dismissed “can we get back to my problem, please?”

“I honestly don’t know what you want to me to say here,” Kathryn admitted, at a loss “on the one hand, Naomi asking you for permission is rather charming and old-fashioned”

“More like ‘backwards and primitive’,” Seven interrupted, her scowl deepening “I’m not Icheb’s mother”

“No,” Kathryn agreed “not biologically that is. But you are the closest thing he has to a material figure onboard, and your opinion means a great deal to _both_ Icheb and Naomi. They both seek out your approval in virtually everything. Look at who they came to when they wanted to become Starfleet cadets in Tuvok’s Academy training program”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Seven admitted “it still doesn’t answer my question though”

Kathryn shrugged.

“Sorry” she said…

******

Tom looked up at the chime, the spoon of baby food halfway to his daughter’s mouth (much to little infant Miral’s clear displeasure, if her steadily-growing whines were any indication). Quickly giving her the spoonful, Tom set the spoon down, absently wiping his hands.

“Come in,” he called out “oh, Seven, hey” he greeted as the doors slid open.

“I need a drink” she exclaimed without preamble as she marched in.

“And ‘hi’ to you too” Tom muttered as she made a beeline for the replicator.

“Bourbon, straight up, _non-synthetic_ ” she requested, stressing that she wanted a ‘real’ drink.

“ _Requests for non-synthetic beverages carries a risk of alcohol intoxi—_ ”

“Override” Seven barked. With a chirp, the glass of dark amber liquid shimmered into existence, which Seven immediately grabbed and downed in one go.

Watching this, Tom frowned.

“You, uh, feeling Ok there, Seven?” he asked.

“No” Seven scowled as she finished her drink and, after recycling the glass, flopped down on the sofa, throwing one arm over her face with a rather-melodramatic groan.

“Oh lord, she’s at it again I see” came B’Elanna’s voice.

“I still say that it’s latent puberty” Tom shrugged as they both cleaned up the mess of baby food that had somehow gotten everywhere except _inside_ the baby.

“I _can_ hear you” Seven called out.

“You were supposed to,” B’Elanna chuckled as she scooped up little Miral, patting her on the back until she quietly burped. Passing her off to Tom, B’Elanna quietly came over to the sofa, gently picked up a pillow, and soundly hit Seven over the head with it.

“Snap out of it!” she barked as Seven bolted up in surprise.

“Don’t yell at me!” Seven snapped “you’re happily married, I’m not”

“For god’s sake, why don’t you just ask Janeway out on a date?” B’Elanna groaned.

“Oh right,” Seven scoffed “hmm, let’s see, what happened with the last officer I tried dating? Anyone? Well, as you can see, it didn’t work out. It barely lasted a month”

“You were still inexperienced,” Tom pointed out as he came back in “it was you first real relationship, and besides, you and Chakotay are still good friends, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Seven agreed “but—”

“No,” B’Elanna interrupted “no ‘buts’, no ‘ifs’, stop, OK?”

Seven scowled as she sat up, allowing Tom and B’Elanna to sit down beside her.

“Why am I friends with you two again?” she wondered.

“Because we’re the only two people on the ship who can resist the urge to throttle you” B’Elanna answered.

“And coming from her that’s saying something” Tom added…


	2. Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter TWO! Enjoy! :=)

******

Seven’s quarters were located on deck three and were ‘technically’ one of the VIP units intended by the ship’s designers for visiting ambassadors and other dignitaries. Of course, being stuck out in the Delta Quadrant where most visiting dignitaries only came onboard long enough to tell the crew to stay out of their space meant that the VIP cabins were frequently empty and free for use.

As such, once Seven’s biological systems had reasserted themselves enough that she no longer needed her alcove she had been assigned quarters by a grinning Kathryn Janeway, who had even delivered a large, rather unwieldy fern as a housewarming gift on Seven’s first day in her new quarters.

Seven had killed said fern in less than a week despite following all the care guidelines to a T. Former Borg drones, it seemed, did not have green thumbs.

Following the plant’s untimely passing, Seven had quickly disposed of the incriminating evidence in the hydroponics bay and flat out refused to answer about its whereabouts whenever anyone asked (not that many people did ask).

Although the fern had turned out to be a less-than-permanent housewarming gift, the other gifts had fared much better. On the shelf space under the viewports sat a Vulcan meditation lamp from Tuvok. Next to that was a small clay sculpture from Naomi (Seven still wasn’t sure what ‘exactly’ it was supposed to be a sculpture of. Naomi had said that it was an ancient Andorian warrior and Seven had merely nodded and agreed with her).

On one wall hung a print of an antique naval chart which portrayed the journey made by Marco Polo to China, a housewarming/parting gift from Chakotay. Seven sobered at the thought of Chakotay. Their relationship had hit a snag when the alternate future Admiral Janeway had come aboard, and although she had never said why, she had strongly hinted to both Seven and Chakotay that their relationship would not work out.

Perhaps due to that warning or simple incompatibility, a week after Kathryn had turned down her future self’s offer of a shortcut home and Seven and Chakotay found that they no longer had anything in common. The resulting breakup had been highly amicable and respectful, and in many ways they were better friends now than they had been before.

By the replicator sat a small kitchenette which had been a group gift on the part of the senior staff. Everyone had pitched in their replicator rations to create the small setup and now Seven could indulge in her newfound passion for cooking.

Sliding a slice of bread into the 20th century-style toaster donated by Tom, Seven grabbed a jar of peanut butter and a knife. The toast had just popped up when chime rang.

“Computer, who is outside?”

“ _Commander Chakotay_ ”

“Come in” Seven called out.

“Evening” Chakotay greeted as he stepped through the doors.

“Evening” Seven replied as she slathered a liberal amount of peanut butter on her toast.

“Having a gourmet dinner I see” Chakotay chuckled, nodding towards said toast.

“Comfort food” Seven replied as she took a vicious bite.

“Oh?” Chakotay’s eyebrow rose as he settled down into a nearby armchair “any particular reason?”

Seven sighed.

“The usual”

“Ah,” Chakotay nodded as if that explained it all “Kathryn”

Seven scowled.

“Don’t you start,” she grumbled “it’s bad enough that I have Tom and B’Elanna doing it”

“Well, they are right,” Chakotay pointed out “it would be easier on all involved if you just came out with it,” when Seven didn’t dignify that with a response, he moved onto another topic “speaking of Kathryn, she mentioned that you came to her with an interesting problem earlier this evening”

Seven’s scowl deepened.

“I’m not sure what to say to Naomi,” she began “why is my opinion so important to her?” she exclaimed.

“She idolizes you,” Chakotay chuckled “always has. She would probably got ahead and ask Icheb out on a date regardless, but it means more to her if she has your approval” he explained.

“I don’t like being an idol;” Seven grumbled “I’m not someone to be idolized”

“I don’t know about that,” he dismissed “you’ve overcome assimilation by the Borg, regained your individuality, found friends. Sounds pretty idol-like to me”

Seven gave a slow, shy smirk in reply.

Smirking reply, Chakotay stood up, reaching out and setting a PADD down on the countertop before her.

“Department head approval form” he explained.

“Let me guess,” Seven began “it’s to approval two officers under my direct command to begin a romantic relationship”

Chakotay nodded.

“Kathryn and I have already both signed off on it,” he explained “just needs your final approval”

“You didn’t have to bring this down here personally” she noted.

“No,” he agreed “but I wanted to check up on you,” he explained “you’ve been…moody for the past couple of weeks” he noted.

“Hmm, Tom says that I’m going through delayed puberty,” she chuckled, picking up the PADD and quickly signing it “I’m unfortunately inclined to agree” she admitted as she handed the PADD back to him.

“Well, can’t help you there, I’m afraid,” he chuckled “that’s a little out of my wheelhouse as first officer”

“What a shame” Seven drawled.

Grinning shyly at each other, he took the PADD from her and moved towards the doors.

“Try to get some sleep,” he advised “you look tired”

“Aye, aye, sir” she gave him a mock salute (something which Starfleet didn’t do) earning a playful roll of the eyes as he stepped out…

******

Sleep eluded her, and after tossing and turning for a good hour, she had given up and decided to take a walk. Sleeping was still a fairly new habit for her, she had only started sleeping in the last year, so a bit of restlessness was to be expected according to The Doctor, but she knew that tonight’s insomnia had nothing to do with her unfamiliarity with sleeping.

Stepping off the turbolift she found herself on the bridge, Harry Kim looking up from the captain’s chair.

“Oh, Seven, hey,” he gave a shy wave as she came over “can’t sleep?” he wondered as she settled down into the first officer’s chair beside him.

“No,” she sighed “anything interesting tonight?” she wondered.

“Nope,” Harry sighed, gesturing to the otherwise empty room “you weren’t kidding when you said that this region of space was ‘unremarkable’ were you?”

“I don’t joke about my work, Harry” she sighed as she studied the console between the chairs, finding nothing of interest on sensors, unless one counted space dust as ‘interesting’.

“So,” Harry began “what’s got you down?”

Seven frowned, her lips twisting in clear displeasure before she answered.

“Naomi wants to date Icheb”

“You’re kidding!” Harry exclaimed.

“Nope” she shook her head. Out of the entire crew, Harry was one of the few who did not know about her attraction to Kathryn and Seven would like it to stay that way, at least for a while anyway.

“So…what are you going to do about it?” Harry wondered.

“I guess just…let them,” she shrugged “it’s the 24th century after all,” she pushed herself upright “besides; I already signed the forms”

Harry chuckled.

“I guess that makes things easier,” he grinned “g’night”

“Night, Harry” she called as she stepped into the turbolift…


	3. Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter THREE! Enjoy! :=)

******

Seven panted for breath as she jogged down the corridor, passing other members of the crew on their own morning runs, some of whom waved or said ‘hi’ to her as they passed. Before, her implants and nanoprobes had regulated her body’s muscle mass and fat distribution, but now that she no longer needed her alcove she needed to maintain a regular workout regimen.

Jogging around the next corner, she found herself matching pace with Tuvok.

“Seven” the Vulcan nodded politely at her.

“Tuvok” she nodded back

“I see that Lt. Torres has succeeded in ‘pranking’ you once again” he noted, nodding towards her hair which was now colored a bright blue.

“I’ll get her back” Seven shrugged.

“Of that I have no doubt” Tuvok drawled with typically dry Vulcan wit.

Smirking at him, Seven wasn’t looking where she was going as they rounded the corner and suddenly she was painfully colliding with someone else coming from the opposite direction at a rather fast clip, the two of them tumbling to the floor in a pained tangle of limbs…

******

The Doctor was in the middle of filing reports when the doors to sickbay slid open. Looking up he was treated to the sight of both Tuvok and Seven guiding Kathryn Janeway inside, Kathryn had her head tilted back as blood dribbled from her clearly broken nose.

“What happened?” rushing over, the hologram had a tricorder at the ready.

“I gave your suggestion of going a morning run a test run,” Kathryn grumbled as she was eased down onto a biobed “suffice to say, it didn’t work out” she added.

“It was my fault,” Seven explained “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I…” she trailed off with a sheepish shrug, looking anywhere besides Kathryn.

“The fault must also partially rest with I as well,” Tuvok added “I engaged Seven in conversation during her exercise and may have distracted her”

“Well, I’m glad to see that we’re all playing the blame game,” The Doctor grumbled as he set about fixing Kathryn’s broken nose “there we are, good as new” he smiled as he stepped back.

Slowly sitting up, Kathryn gingerly touched her nose, nodding in satisfaction.

“Thank you, Doctor” she said as she swung herself off the biobed.

“Of course,” The Doctor nodded “now then, Seven about your head wound,”

Blinking, Seven reached up, fingering a sizable cut on her forehead in clear surprise before The Doctor swiftly patched it up with a dermal regenerator. Stepping back, he assessed the three.

“Well then if there are no more injuries that need tending to…?” seeing that there weren’t, he gestured towards the doors “off you go then”

Exiting the room, Kathryn scowled.

“He’s gotten surlier over the years” she noted.

“Indeed” Tuvok noted dryly before giving both women a polite nod and then heading away. Now alone with Seven, Kathryn gave her a soft smile.

“Relax, it was an accident, Seven,” she told the younger woman “happens to the best of us”

“Borg don’t have accidents” Seven replied stiffly.

“Maybe so,” Kathryn shrugged “but you’re not a drone anymore,” she pointed out “speaking of which…” she pointed towards Seven’s hair.

“Oh,” Seven felt her face heat up as she fingered her bright blue hair “B’Elanna pranked me this morning by resetting my replicator to dispense hair dye in my regular shampoo bottle” she explained.

“That’s very inventive,” Kathryn noted “so, how are you planning on retaliating?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Seven shrugged “I suppose I could respond in kind”

“Possibly,” Kathryn noted “however that could work once she goes for a shower, which would be tonight after her duty shift, so she’d notice and wash out the dye long before morning” she pointed.

“True,” Seven nodded, then shrugged “I’ll think of something,” she dismissed. She frowned as they both reached the turbolift “sorry about crashing into you” she apologized.

“No need to apologize,” Kathryn dismissed “like I said, it was just an accident. I should just count myself lucky that all I broke was my nose”

“You should,” Seven nodded as they stepped inside the ‘lift “most of my skeleton is reinforced with duranium alloy,” she reached up and knocked on the side of her head “tough stuff”

“Hmm, so that explains your stubbornness, does it?” Kathryn teased as she stepped out of the turbolift and onto the bridge.

Leaving Seven gapping at her as the doors slid shut... 

******

Entering main engineering, Seven looked around, finally spotting her target. Tiptoeing across the deck, she lobbed her weapon, watching as the balloon exploded against the back of B’Elanna’s head, covering her head and shoulders with a thick green goo.

Whirling around, B’Elanna angrily swiped at eyes, glowering at Seven as the former drone sprinted out of the room.

“ _That wasn’t a prank! That was assault!!!_ ” B’Elanna roared as she chased after Seven down the corridor.

“I’m having an off morning!” Seven called back over her shoulder as she sprinted around the corner, B’Elanna’s bellowing roar echoing off the walls as she caught up with Seven and tackled her to the deck…

******

The Doctor sighed tiredly as he assessed his two newest patients. Both B’Elanna and Seven each sported a black eye and various other bruises and cuts and scrapes and were both covered in some kind of green slime.

Standing nearby watching as The Doctor attended to said injuries, Chakotay crossed his arms and scowled.

“Explanations, now” he ordered.

The two women looked between each other.

“She started it!” they both exclaimed…


	4. Time Travel is for Lovesick Fools

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter FOUR! Enjoy! :=)

******

Kathryn sighed as she read the report in her hands.

“This is getting out of hand,” she groaned “I can overlook the pranks, but Seven pelting B’Elanna with a water balloon while on-duty…”

“Still, B’Elanna’s not entirely innocent here either,” Chakotay reminded her “she _did_ chase after Seven and tackled her to ground after all”

“And, according to The Doctor, during the scuffle Seven actually _bit_ B’Elanna on the arm,” Kathryn added, hefting the PADD. She tossed the PADD on the desk “what are we going to do about these two?” she sighed.

“Give them both a time out?” Chakotay suggested, sitting down “take away their holodeck privileges?”

Kathryn smirked.

“Tempting, but no,” sighing, she leaned back in her chair, tiredly rubbing at her forehead “why are they both acting like this?”

“I think it’s a combination of several things,” Chakotay began. At her nod, he continued “firstly, it’s simple boredom, this area of space we’re passing through is pretty empty, so for Seven she has nothing better to do than map stars and catalog the occasional nebula. For B’Elanna its also boredom but combined with stress, she has a new baby after all, and nothing to fix to take her mind off the stress of being a new mother” he explained.

Kathryn slowly leaned forwards, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“You know, you just gave me an idea” she noted.

“I think I’m beginning to regret saying anything” Chakotay muttered…

******

“You want us to _what?!?!_ ”

B’Elanna, Tom, and Seven all stared at Kathryn in equal amounts of shock.

“Allow Seven to babysit Miral for a few hours a day” Kathryn repeated calmly.

“Captain,” Tom began “all due respect to Seven here, but…she doesn’t have any experience with kids”

“She helped Icheb and other Borg children” Kathryn countered.

“But they weren’t babies!” Seven objected, flailing her arms a bit “I don’t know _anything_ about babies, much less Human/Klingon hybrids” she continued.

“Then _adapt_ ,” Kathryn growled out, her patience clearly wearing thin “I can overlook a few harmless pranks, in fact on a good day I can even laugh at them, but I _will not_ have two of my senior officers _brawling_ in the corridors. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Captain” the three chorused, suitably chastised.

“Now, Tom, give Seven any information you think she might need, she starts tomorrow. Dismissed,”

Turning, the three moved to leave; Seven staying behind at Kathryn’s soft call.

“Sit down, please,” Kathryn invited, gesturing towards the sofa as she retrieved a cup of coffee for herself and a cup of apple juice for Seven. Handing the apple juice to Seven, she settled down beside her.

“How are you feeling, Seven?” she asked.

“Fine” Seven answered, frowning confusedly at the older woman between sips of her juice.

“Are you sure?” Kathryn pressed “you’ve been…moody since you came and told me about Naomi and Icheb” she noted.

Seven sighed heavily.

“I suppose,” she began “that…Naomi’s question made me think about how…alone I am” she admitted.

“Alone?” Kathryn echoed.

“Yes, alone,” Seven nodded “I have friends, crewmates, but no…significant partner” she admitted.

“Oh, Seven,” Kathryn sighed “you haven’t given…any thought to trying dating again?” she wondered.

Seven frowned and was silent for a long moment.

“Not really,” she finally answered. Setting down her now-empty cup of apple juice, she stood up “I need to go” she murmured softly

“Of course” Kathryn nodded, watching her go. As the doors slid shut behind her, Kathryn sighed herself and, since no one was watching, flopped down on the sofa with a long, drawn-out groan.

Ever since the visit from her future self, Kathryn had been confronted with the stark realities of her feelings for Seven. What she had once dismissed a mere crush had been swiftly turned on its head with the knowledge that, in alternate future, Seven had married Chakotay and was later killed during an away mission. The idea that Seven had possibly died without ever knowing how Kathryn felt about her chilled her to the bone, fortunately soon after the Admiral had arrived, Seven and Chakotay had ended their relationship.

They were both tightlipped about the exact reasons (although Chakotay had hinted that it was due to a simple lack of anything in common) but it seemed that one act had started a domino effect, soon after Kathryn had turned the Admiral’s offer of a shortcut home. At the time she had told herself it was due to being unwilling to risk the safety of her ship and crew by going through a Borg infested nebula, but now she wasn’t so sure.

The Admiral had almost been like a mirror image of herself she recalled; selfish, obsessed, willing to betray her Starfleet ideals for her own gains. But soon after Kathryn turned her down it was discovered why her future self would go to such bizarre and insane lengths.

She had been dying, the cause being a disease that was unknown to current Federation medicine.

Refusing treatment, she had instead offered The Doctor the entirety of the Starfleet Medical database on her shuttle. Within it, The Doctor had swiftly found a cure for Tuvok’s mental deterioration as well cures for a wide variety of diseases and conditions that some of the crew suffered from, including a preventative cure for Kathryn in the present and, most significantly, a way to speed along the regeneration of Seven’s biological systems without risks to her health.

What would have taken decades for Seven to achieve naturally and no doubt with countless complications and procedures had instead only taken a few years, and in those few years, Seven had swiftly matured and grown as a person. Suddenly no longer needing her alcove to regenerate, she had started eating full meals, quickly becoming something of a gourmand in the process.

This newfound freedom seemed to have set off something within Seven, suddenly she had begun embracing her humanity in a way that Kathryn could never have anticipated. Once, she had hoped that Seven would eventually return to her Human identity of Annika Hansen, but instead Seven had forged a new identity for herself, seeing herself as neither fully Borg nor completely Human, but something in between, a hybrid in a way.

Admiral Janeway, her mission to bring _Voyager_ home earlier a failure, had died days after arriving. She had been given a burial in space with full honors with all the crew in attendance. As for her shuttlecraft, Kathryn had ordered it destroyed, wiping the logs of the detailed scans the crew had performed of its technology. The future technology, though possibly beneficial, had just been too dangerous to hang onto, even if it was never used and remained in the database. The idea of what a race like the Kazon or Hirogen could have done with it was too frightening to contemplate, not to mention what could happen if the Borg had succeeded in assimilating it, no better to leave sleeping dogs where they lie.

Except now that Kathryn had a new conundrum on her hands, namely Seven. Although she had ordered the logs of their encounter with Admiral Janeway largely wiped as per the Temporal Prime Directive, she did hang onto one piece of information. It had contained in the Admiral’s shuttle’s main computer, a single log entry made by her future self while still aboard _Voyager_ , it detailed—among other things—the circumstances surrounding Seven’s death.

No one else aboard knew about its existence or that she had already used its contents to prevent Seven’s death. The log entry detailed how the ship had encountered an advanced and violent alien race, most importantly the location of their space and their name, so when _Voyager_ had encountered this region of space in the present (some three years past now), Kathryn had quietly ordered them around it.

No one on the crew had questioned the choice; the traders who had pointed them in that direction had warned them how dangerous the natives were, as far the crew was concerned it had been a valid and logical move.

Except Kathryn knew that it wasn’t, it had been motived by her fear of losing Seven, of seeing all of the progress that she had made being snuffed out and in such a horrific way as well (the log had included a copy of The Doctor’s report on Seven’s death, Kathryn hadn’t gotten past the first paragraph before becoming violently sick).

But now Kathryn had to live with the consequences of her actions. The detour may have saved Seven’s life but had added a further four years to their journey home (hence why her alternate self had made the decision to go through the area in the first place) and with that knowledge had come another revelation.

Her feelings for Seven went _far beyond_ a mere crush. But they were feelings she could never act on, not as long as she was Seven’s captain and they were still so far from home, as long as she bore that responsibility her feelings for Seven would have to go on ignored.

Except—and here her heart would voice its objections—the next sixty or so years would be an awfully long time to be alone. Already the crew was pairing off—Tom and B’Elanna were just one couple among many, and The Doctor’s last report on the crew’s general health indicated that there were at least three more pregnancies onboard.

 _Voyager_ was swiftly becoming a generation ship, and with that understanding came the understanding that it might not be Kathryn herself to who guided the ship into orbit around Earth, it might be a descendent of hers, a grandchild or greatgrandchild even, and if so why should she deny herself the opportunity to at least explore the possibility with Seven?

At this point, Kathryn’s brain gave up arguing with her heart and suggested a copious amount of either coffee or alcohol (or a combination of the two) to drown it out.

Deciding that was a very good idea, Kathryn pushed herself off the sofa and ordered a strong black coffee and then set about busying herself in the stack of reports on her desk to distract herself.

Even though she knew, logically, she couldn’t ignore the issue for long…


	5. Operation: Babysit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're BACK! Chapter FIVE! Enjoy! :=)

******

Seven paced back and forth across the carpeting, her steps were measured, even, precise. The same however could not be said for her mental state.

“Babysitting?!” she exclaiming “babysitting?!” she repeated, her voice cracking slightly.

Seated on the edge of his desk, watching her pace, Chakotay idly took a sip from his coffee, content to let her panic for a moment. Finally, letting out a tired sigh, Seven sank down in the chair opposite him, letting her head fall back as she did.

“Feel better?” Chakotay asked.

“No,” Seven sighed “but I can’t exactly disobey her now can I?”

“I think it’d be good for you,” Chakotay suggested “might be good practice for you if you ever decide to have children of your own”

Seven looked up at him sharply.

“Who says that I want children?” she wondered rhetorically.

Chakotay shrugged.

“You never know” he dismissed…

******

At exactly 0700 hours the next day and Seven was ringing the chime to Tom and B’Elanna’s quarters. As the doors slid open, B’Elanna leaned against the doorframe, smirking.

“Well, you’re punctual, I’ll give you that” she chuckled as she let Seven inside.

Entering the room, Seven looked around, seeing a playpen and a large plush-looking blanket by the sofa, along with several toys and books scattered about the room. It was disorganized, chaotic, and the part of her mind that was still firmly Borg—a part that, admittedly, had much less of an influence on her daily life than it did before—began to have a mild panic attack at the sight.

“OK,” Tom suddenly came out of the en suite with little Miral in his arms. Smiling, he held her out towards Seven “here you go”

Seven reared back as if he was handing her a piece of raw antimatter. Visibly steeling herself, she reached out and _slowly_ took the infant from him.

“OK, she gets a bottle every two hours,” B’Elanna began “and between then you can give her some baby food. It’s all loaded in the replicator along with the diaper patterns” she explained.

“Diaper?” Seven repeated.

“She might get a little fussy, but that’s just because she doesn’t know you all that well” Tom picked up. Both he and B’Elanna completely ignoring Seven’s question about diapers she noticed.

“Define ‘fussy’?” Seven asked.

“You know, fussy,” Tom shrugged “she’ll probably cry or whine a little once we leave. _Relax_ , you’ll be _fine_ ” he assured her as he and B’Elanna slipped out of the room.

Now alone, Seven looked down at the infant in her arms, who as predicted began to sniffle and whine. Suddenly throwing her little head back, Miral let out an ear-splitting _scream_.

Cringing, Seven desperately looked around the room for something to calm her down. Spotting a large stuffed _targ_ toy on the sofa, she swiftly grabbed it and held it out to Miral. Sure enough, the sight of the toy seemed to calm the baby and, reaching out with tiny little hands, Miral took the toy and began to happily gnaw on it, seemingly calm and content once more.

Seven let out a breath she hadn’t been aware that she had been holding. Careful not to jostle Miral, Seven eased herself down onto the sofa, looking down at the tiny bundle in her arms.

Taking the toy out of her mouth, Miral looked up at Seven, the two staring each other down in equal amounts of uncertain curiosity. Releasing the toy, Miral suddenly reached up, fingers wriggling as she tried to grab Seven’s facial implants.

“No, no,” Seven quickly pulled her head back and away from overly-curious little hands even as Miral started giggling “those are part of me, you can’t have them,” she told the baby “I’m talking to an infant,” she muttered disgustedly. Her scowl deepened “great, I’m talking to _myself_ now,”

Still giggling, Miral let out a hiccup, which was followed by an audible gurgle and then a distinct smell suddenly filled the air…

******

The Doctor frowned at the tricorder and shook his head.

“Nope, she’s perfectly healthy” he declared, snapping the instrument shut.

“You’re certain?” Seven asked skeptically.

“One hundred percent,” the hologram nodded “occasionally most humanoid infants get a little bit of indigestion early in life. It’s perfectly normal, they’re still growing and developing after all,” he explained.

Taking Miral from Seven, he gently set her down on the sofa before going over to the replicator and tapping in a command. Coming back over to the sofa he held up a small white square, beaming at Seven.

“Now then, let’s start by changing that dirty diaper shall we?” he declared…

******

After a few demonstrations by The Doctor and a quick perusal of the Starfleet Medical database, Seven and Miral quickly settled into a quiet and efficient routine. Having finished off her bottle, Miral was now down for a nap, while Seven meanwhile perused Tom’s collection of 20th century novels. Most of the titles held little interest for her, except one stood out.

_The Price of Salt  
By Claire Morgan_

Seven frowned, gently removing the book from the shelf and examining the plain cover. Glancing at where Miral still slept, Seven gently settled down and began to read…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Price of Salt" is a real novel. Written by author Patricia Highsmith--best known for writing "Strangers on a Train" it was first published in 1952 under the pen name 'Claire Morgan'. The novel is a considered a landmark in lesbian literature in that it has a happy ending and doesn't end with one of the two heroes having a nervous breakdown, dying tragically/committing suicide, or going back to her husband, which was the fate of so many lesbian characters in many earlier works. In 1990, the book was republished under the title of "Carol" and under Highsmith's own name, and it 2015, the book was turned into the film "Carol".
> 
> Highsmith based the main character of Therese Belivet on herself and her own various relationships with other women, most significantly with a woman named "Virginia Kent Catherwood" a socialite from Philadelphia who, like Carol in the book, lost custody of her daughter in a divorce case where one of the pieces of evidence against her were a set of tape recordings of lesbian trysts in hotel rooms.
> 
> The idea for the novel. according to Highsmith herself, came from a woman in a mink coat that Highsmith briefly met while working as a store clerk in Bloomingdale's in New York during Christmas in 1948. Although nothing actually happened between her and the mysterious woman just a simple transaction, Highsmith was so taken with her that she wrote out the book's outline in two hours that evening, only finding out the next day that she had done so while suffering from a fever from chickenpox.


	6. Whistful Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're BACK! Chapter SIX! A short one but hopefully a good one! Enjoy! :=)

******

Having finished _The Price of Salt_ , Seven had moved onto a copy of Ray Bradbury’s _The Martian Chronicles_ after which she had moved onto Bradbury’s _Fahrenheit 451_. She had been engrossed in a copy of Stephen King’s _Misery_ with nail-biting intensity (not that she actually bit her nails, mind you) when the chime rang. Jumping at least thirty feet at the sound, she took a nervous breath before looking towards Miral’s bassinet hurriedly, but the baby was still sleeping soundly, undisturbed by either the chime or Seven’s pole vaulter impression.

Letting out a slow, shaky breath, Seven willed her heart to slow down, then carefully set down the book before getting up and answering the chime, finding Kathryn on the other side.

“Oh,” rearing back in surprise she was stymied for a moment “Captain” she acknowledged before finally awkwardly shuffling back and allowing her inside.

“Just came by to see how everything is going” Kathryn said.

“Of course” Seven nodded.

“So?” Kathryn asked.

“So?” Seven repeated, confused.

“How are things going?” Kathryn asked pointedly.

“Oh!” Seven blinked “right. The baby”

“Yes, the baby,” Kathryn was frowning now “Seven, are you all right?”

“Fine,” Seven hiccupped up on the word “sorry. Just…got into a really good book” that sounded perfectly innocent didn’t it?

“Ah,” a clear expression of relief crossed Kathryn’s face “so,” she approached the bassinet and peered inside “how is she?” she whispered.

“Good,” Seven whispered back then looked at Kathryn questioningly “why are we whispering?” she wondered, still whispering.

“Because we don’t want to wake the baby” Kathryn explained, also still whispering.

Seven stared at her, confused.

“And that would be…bad, right?” she asked slowly.

“Has she cried in any of the time since you’ve been here?” Kathryn asked.

“Yes” Seven nodded.

“Then there’s your answer”

“Oh,” Seven said softly. Moving towards the replicator, she quietly requested some warm tea for herself and coffee for Kathryn, bringing them back over to the sofa and absently handing the coffee to Kathryn as they settled down next to each other “so, how’s your day been?” Seven wondered as she sipped her tea.

Kathryn frowned, clearly surprised at the question

“It’s been good, thank you,” she answered after a moment’s pause “boring,” she admitted “but, considering the alternative is being shot at, I can safely say that I prefer it,” she chuckled. She paused, taking a sip of her own drink “how about you? How have you been enjoying babysitting?” she wondered.

Seven paused, frowning thoughtfully.

“Interesting,” she finally said slowly “but…not unpleasant”

“That’s good,” Kathryn nodded. She frowned “have you ever given thought to having the children?” she wondered.

Now it was Seven’s turn to frown in surprise.

“I never really thought about it,” she admitted “plus, I don’t really have much experience with children. The Borg children and Naomi don’t exactly count after all” she chuckled.

“How is that anyway?” Kathryn asked “Naomi and Icheb I mean”

“I don’t know,” Seven shook her head “haven’t seen either of them in a few days,” she explained “which is odd, considering that we’re in a closed environment” she noted.

“It happens,” Kathryn dismissed “you’d be surprised how often I go through whole days without seeing Chakotay” she chuckled.

“I would be surprised,” Seven noted, turning to her curiously “tell me,” she requested. And in that pose—one knee drawn up and tucked under her other leg, teacup gently cradled in her hand, one arm tucked against her side—she looked so utterly Human that Kathryn was struck dumb.

Slowly, as if hypnotized, she reached out, setting her coffee down and then, taking Seven’s cup from her, repeating the process with her cup before she gently took Seven’s hand, fingers laced together as she leaned in.

The spell was suddenly broken by a tiny cry. Blinking, both women pulled away and then looked towards the bassinet.

“Oh,” standing up, Seven hurried over to the infant “ah, someone’s hungry,” scooping her up, she carried the baby over to the replicator, requesting some baby food, quickly setting about feeding her “could you hold her?” she requested.

Blinking, her face still feeling warm, Kathryn nodded dimly, taking the infant from Seven as the former drone set up the highchair before taking Miral from her and placing her in the chair.

Watching Seven feed the baby, Kathryn couldn’t help but feel more than a little wistful, wondering at what could be, if she only gave in…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still contend that "Misery" is one of Stephen King's scariest books :=)


	7. The Bear in the Ready Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're BACK! Chapter SEVEN! Enjoy! :=)

******

Seven sighed as she kicked the bedcovers off. Getting out of bed, she padded barefoot out into the living area and to the replicator, requesting some warm tea. Carrying the cup over to the viewport, she idly took a sip as she watched the stars streak by, her thoughts randomly jumping from one topic to another as fast as the ship was traveling.

Finishing her tea, she recycled the cup and, still feeling energetic, decided to go for a walk, her feet carrying her to Kathryn’s quarters. Standing outside the doors, Seven fidgeted, nervously shifting from foot to foot as she debated whether or not to ring the chime.

Finally, her nerve left her and she turned around and stepped back into the turbolift, ordering it to take her to astrometrics. Stepping into the darkened lab, she stared up the main console and pulled up a variety of star charts and other sensor data, quickly losing herself in the certainty and unchanging nature of numbers and mathematics.

Numbers were good, numbers didn’t have feelings, they were simple, pure, numbers didn’t come to her for advice, numbers didn’t make her skin sing whenever they rested a hand on her shoulder, or her upper arm, or—worse—the small of her back.

No, numbers didn’t do any of those things…

******

The next morning Kathryn woke up on the proverbial wrong side of the bed. Her interaction with Seven the night before had rattled her, the sight of Seven looking so utterly Human and the intimate image of Seven with baby Miral only served to heighten her unease and she—like Seven herself—had barely slept. As a result, she staggered onto the bridge, a cup of coffee all but glued to her mouth as she muttered and grumbled darkly under her breath.

“Commander” she acknowledged Chakotay as she passed.

Chakotay’s response was quickly cut off by her clear glare.

 _‘Good morning,’_ the glare said _‘fuck off’_ the glare added as she entered her ready room.

Frowning, Chakotay took a sip of his own coffee, pausing as he wondered if there was something in it that could affect brain chemistry. It would make sense considering Kathryn’s addiction to the beans. Hefting the PADD in his other hand that contained the ship’s daily reports, he pursed his lips thoughtfully, running through a mental list of the crew roster to try and find someone who would be immune to her glare and could face the angry bear in the ready room without flinching, at first considering Tuvok, but then vetoed that, suddenly picking the perfect person.

Resisting the urge to grin, he tapped his combadge…

******

Meanwhile, moments earlier, Seven looked up as the doors to astrometrics slid open.

“Icheb, what are you doing here so early?” she asked, confused.

“Seven?” Icheb looked at her equally as confused “I’m not early,” he said slowly “I’m here to begin my duty shift” he explained.

Seven frowned.

“Computer, state the time” she requested.

“ _The time is 0700 hours_ ” the computer dutifully replied.

Blinking in clear surprise, Seven looked towards the neat stack of PADDs to her right and then down at her standard issue pajamas, suddenly realizing that she had done almost a fully day’s work (and probably a little more too) over the course of the night.

“Damn it” she muttered.

“Seven?” Icheb questioned, his tone concerned.

“Sorry,” shaking her head to clear it, she returned her attention to her protégé “I…lost track of time,” she explained, quickly logging out of the terminal “all yours”

“Are you feeling all right?” Icheb asked.

“Fine, fine,” Seven dismissed, already halfway towards the doors “just…becoming more Human every day it seems,” she explained softly as she stepped out, pausing suddenly “Icheb?” she asked.

Icheb turned.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Have you seen Naomi lately?” Seven asked, watching his reaction. As expected, he suddenly went stiff, eyes darting around the room for a moment. A few years ago she would have asked him why he was acting so strange, now however she just watched him squirm.

“Not today, no,” he finally answered slowly “but I had lunch with her yesterday afternoon,” he explained “did you need to speak to her about something?”

“No,” Seven shook her head “just wondering, that’s all,” she dismissed, surprised at how easy the lie came “carry on” she added as she stepped out into the corridor.

“ _Seven of Nine to the bridge_ ” Chakotay’s voice suddenly came over the com.

Tapping her combadge, Seven responded.

“On my way” closing the channel, she looked down at herself, deciding that a quick detour to her quarters was in order…

******

Chakotay looked up as the turbolift doors slid open, Seven leaned against the doorframe, her leather jacket slung over one shoulder as she smirked at him.

“You called?” she chuckled as she stepped out.

“You’re late” he countered.

“I needed a shower,” she shrugged “so, what’s up?” she asked.

In answer, Chakotay held out the PADD and then nodded towards the ready room doors.

“The bear is awake” he said.

Smirking, Seven plucked the PADD from his grip.

“Coward” she teased as she swiftly crossed the room and rang the chime, the call for her to enter coming out. As she stepped through the doors, Tom looked back at Chakotay.

“Got to hand it to you,” he chuckled “that was pretty sneaky”

“Only if it works, Tom,” Chakotay reminded him “only if it works”

******

Standing before Kathryn’s desk, Seven held out the PADD. Still guzzling coffee (a fresh cup this time), Kathryn took the PADD without a word, scanning its contents before putting it down.

“Thanks,” she nodded absently “is there anything else?”

“Not that I’m aware of” Seven shook her head.

“Good, then you’re dismissed”

Scowling, Seven turned back to the doors.

“Moody” she grumbled.

“And just _what_ is _that_ supposed to mean?”

Seven paused by the doors, turning to look over her shoulder at the older woman,

“Figure it out,” she smirked “and maybe lay off the coffee for a while” she added before she stepped through the doors.

Leaving Kathryn staring at the empty space where she’d been moments earlier. Glancing at the coffee cup, she set it down, sliding it across the desk as far away as possible. Maybe she could switch to decaf; it couldn’t hurt after all…


	8. Lovecraft & Lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're BACK! Chapter EIGHT!!! Enjoy! :=)

******

Seven frowned as she crouched down next to B’Elanna, looking between her and the item that the half-Klingon woman had indicated.

“You want me to do _what_ exactly?” Seven asked.

“Reach in there and see if you can manually turn the intake valve,” B’Elanna explained “come on, you’re stronger than me,” she added when Seven continued to look dubious “just stick your hand in there” she exclaimed.

Sighing heavily, Seven rolled her sleeve and, crouching down, slid her left, Borg-enhanced hand into the narrow opening, recoiling almost the moment her hand entered the narrow passage.

“ _Ohhh!_ ” twisting her head away, she groaned and gagged, a greenish slime oozing out of the intake valve around her wrist “oh! It’s like something out of Lovecraft!” she groaned. Grunting, she gave her arm a hard twist “wait! Wait! I think…yeah! Got it!”

There was an audible creaking groan from within in the intake valve. To their left, the nearby console chirped, a message appearing that stated that the intake valve was now clear and operating normally.

“Ugh!” grunting, Seven wrenched her hand free. Standing up and wrinkling her nose in clear disgust at the sight of the green-yellow slime now covering her hand and wrist, Seven held out her hand towards B’Elanna “towel, please” she pleaded.

“God, you’re a real wuss now, aren’t you?” B’Elanna noted dryly as she nonetheless handed the former drone a towel, which Seven took from her and began vigorously scrubbing her hands off with, B’Elanna was surprised that she wasn’t going _‘ew, ew, ew’_ under her breath (although maybe she was for all B’Elanna knew).

“I am _not_ a wuss,” Seven grumbled, still scrubbing “I just don’t like sticking my hands into puddles of slime!” throwing the now-thoroughly saturated towel in B’Elanna’s direction, the former drone stalked out of engineering, muttering darkly under her breath.

Making a sharp turn, Seven stepped into the turbolift and directed it to the mess hall. Stepping into the mess hall proper, she made a beeline for one of the replicators and ordered a steak lunch. Looking around the room, she spotted Harry sitting by himself nursing a large cup of what she assumed was coffee.

“Harry” waving to him, Seven made her way over, sitting down across from him, frowning when she saw that he was so engrossed in the PADD in his free hand that he clearly hadn’t noticed her presence. Scowling in annoyance at not being noticed, she reached out and snapped her fingers in Harry’s face.

“Ah!” Harry jumped about three feet in the air “don’t… _do_ that!” he exclaimed.

“Hi,” Seven replied, giving a little wave for added effect “good reading?” she asked, nodding towards the PADD.

“Huh? Oh,” Harry examined the PADD “it’s a letter from my Mom,” he explained “a _long_ letter from my Mom,” he added with a chuckle “I think she took up most of the data in the datastream”

“Anything interesting happening back home?” Seven wondered.

“Not really,” Harry shrugged “how about you? How’s your day been?” he wondered.

“Not much to tell,” Seven shrugged “B’Elanna roped me into manually clearing out a clogged intake valve” she explained.

“Manually?” Harry repeated “geez, what’d you do to piss her off?” he chuckled.

“Exist apparently?” she shrugged.

Harry snorted out a half-laugh, which Seven quickly joined in on.

“Is that all you’re eating?” she asked suddenly, nodding towards his rather-meager looking tray, which contained some fruit salad and what appeared to be what the replicator called oatmeal.

Harry looked down at his tray.

“Uh, I guess,” he shrugged “you want some?” he offered.

Seven wrinkled her nose in clear disgust.

“No, thank you,” she nodded towards her own tray, absently poking at the steak with her fork “I’m frankly not even sure if I want to eat this,” she admitted “replicators are good at synthesizing raw materials but they’re terrible at creating food” she remarked. Giving up, she pushed her tray away, standing up and walking into the kitchen area.

Picking up a spoon, she banged on a pot, causing the room look up.

“All right, everyone,” she called out “kitchen’s open!”

The room burst into applause…


	9. Students of the Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're BACK!! Chapter NINE! Enjoy! :=)

******

Finishing off her latest cup of coffee, Kathryn turned to the replicator, debating whether or not to get another cup when the chime rang.

“Come,” she called out, the doors sliding open to reveal Naomi Wildman “Naomi,” Kathryn smiled at her visitor “please, sit down” she invited.

“Thank you, Captain,” Naomi nodded shyly. The young girl who had once dreamed of being ‘assistant captain’ had since blossomed into a stunningly smart, cheerful and friendly, if somewhat shy, young woman, having what Tom had once described as _‘enthusiastic shyness’_ , being highly enthusiastic to explore and meet new people, but at the same time being rather shy about it too.

Now almost twenty years old, she stood a good head taller than Kathryn, nearly as tall as Seven. This effect was only heightened by how proudly she stood in her Starfleet cadet’s uniform, the shoulders adorned in sciences blue and the cadet insignia gleaming in the light as she held out a PADD towards Kathryn.

“My weekly progress report, Captain” she explained as Kathryn took the PADD from her.

“Thank you, cadet,” Kathryn smiled, giving the report a quick skim finding, as she expected, nothing out of the ordinary or unusual “so,” setting the PADD aside, she gestured for Naomi to sit down “how have you been, Naomi?” she asked.

“Good” the young woman nodded, sitting down.

“No problems with your work schedule?” Kathryn asked.

“No,” Naomi shook her head “still getting used to how different is from my schoolwork” she chuckled.

“Well what about when you’re off duty?” Kathryn probed “you don’t…spend time with anyone while you’re off duty?” she wondered innocently.

Now Naomi went stiff, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks.

“Oh,” she said softly, ducking her head shyly “you mean…” she trailed off, blushing stronger.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you” Kathryn apologized.

“No, it’s all right,” Naomi giggled.

Getting up, Kathryn went over to the replicator and ordered some more coffee for herself and some chocolate milk for Naomi, which Naomi took without question and happily sipped while Kathryn silently invited her over to the sofa.

Joining her on the sofa, Naomi tucked her legs up under herself, absently resting her glass of chocolate milk on her knee. Taking a breath, she seemed to gather her thoughts for a moment before continuing.

“So, I guess that…Seven talked to you about…” she trailed off.

“About you wanting to date Icheb, yes,” Kathryn nodded “there’s no need to feel embarrassed about it,” she chuckled “it’s a perfectly natural part of growing up. Everyone who serves on a starship falls for another crewmember at some point,” she shrugged “it’s practically a rite of passage. Now, in your case, you grew up here on _Voyager_ , I think everyone just _expected_ that you’d have fallen for someone here on the ship”

“Is that why no one was surprised?” Naomi asked.

“Basically,” Kathryn nodded “although I have to admit I never expected to have Seven come to me a near-panic about it” she laughed.

“You should have seen her face when I first asked her,” Naomi giggled “she just stood there, frozen, for almost a full minute and then she just rushed out of the room!”

“She didn’t even say anything?” Kathryn asked, surprised. She hadn’t heard this part of the story from Seven.

“No, not a word,” Naomi shook her head “just ran out”

“Never thought I hear Seven running away from a problem before” Kathryn chuckled.

“She’s changed,” Naomi noted, pausing to take another sip of her chocolate milk “of course, I think we’ve all changed over the past few years” she noted.

Kathryn smirked, her thoughts turning to Seven.

“Yes, we have” she agreed softly…


	10. A Quest for Perfection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're BACK!!! Chapter TEN!!! Enjoy!!! :=)

******

Tom rounded the corner into the mess hall, little Miral tucked into a front pack. One arm protectively tucked under her bottom, Tom looked around the crowded mess hall, watching the veritable riot at the window leading into the kitchen as people jostled one another for best spot at or near the head of the line.

“Looks like Chef Seven’s in, eh, kiddo?” he grinned down at the baby.

Miral merely gurgled and cooed, clearly not knowing or caring about what her father was saying but enjoying hearing his voice nonetheless.

“Yeah, you don’t care, do you?” Tom chuckled, giving her head a little pat as he stepped into the fray, managing to get a few cuts due to Miral. Reaching the head of the line, he grinned at the sight of Seven manning at least two pans and one pot at once while also bantering with the horde of hungry crewmembers at the window.

“Hey, Tom” she greeted distractedly.

“Hey,” Tom greeted “what’s on the menu for today?” he grinned.

“Beef stew,” Seven replied. She gestured towards the simmering pot “I’m also trying my hand at _plomeek_ soup” she added.

“Ah,” Tom grinned “plomeek soup a la Seven of Nine?”

“Something like that,” Seven shrugged. Setting the ladle aside, she turned to face him fully, leaning against the edge of the counter and smiling at little Miral “and how is our youngest crewmember?” she wondered.

“Fussy,” Tom sighed “she kept crying until I took her with me today” he explained.

Seven’s ocular implant rose.

“I bet that made for an interesting duty shift on the bridge” she chuckled.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Tom snorted “fortunately she was quiet, but you should’ve seen the looks that Janeway and Chakotay gave me!”

“Wish I could’ve,” Seven chuckled as Miral cooed and reached out for Seven, fingers grasping “she likes my facial implants” Seven explained, leaning back and out of reach of grasping little fingers.

“I’m not surprised,” Tom chuckled “they’re shiny, and babies like shiny things”

“They’re not _that_ shiny” Seven grumbled, absently serving another crewmember a dish.

“Shiny enough,” Tom shrugged. He leaned forwards “tell you the truth but I’m still impressed at how good a job The Doc did in restoring your appearance,” he admitted “I mean, I’ve seen your medical file and it’s incredible at what the Borg did to you,” he continued.

Seven blushed slightly, reflexively reaching up and lightly touching her ocular implant.

“Sorry,” Tom apologized “didn’t mean for that to sound insulting”

“No,” Seven shook her head “no, it’s fine,” she dismissed “to be perfectly honest but I’m also surprised at what a good job he did with the cosmetic surgery,” she admitted. She traced her finger around the edge of the ocular implant “after all, most of the right half of my skull has been replaced” she pointed out.

“Yeah,” Tom grumbled “along with parts of your spine, lungs, kidneys—most of your skeleton actually—your left hand,” he nodded at her left hand “and hasn’t your ribcage been completely altered?”

“Yep,” Seven nodded “bonded with durainium alloy, just like my skull,” she gave him a bitter smirk “like I told B’Elanna once, I’m a hybrid now,” she explained “not fully Human or fully Borg, but something in between”

“Yeah, I’ve always wondered about that,” Tom admitted “I mean how do you see yourself as still being part Borg?” he wondered.

“The way I see it, being Borg isn’t inherently good or bad,” she explained “a shared quest for perfection, for knowledge and understanding, how is that any different from what Humans have been doing since first contact with the Vulcans?” she mused.

“Huh, never thought about it like that” Tom admitted.

“Not many do,” Seven explained “but, take away the destructive qualities of the Collective, and the Borg are no different from the countless other species out there in the galaxy who want to better themselves”

“Huh” was all Tom could say. Anything else that may have been said was suddenly cut off as a hail came over the comm.

“ _All senior staff to the bridge_ ” came Chakotay’s voice

“Duty calls” Tom chuckled as quickly stripped off the apron and threw her ever-present leather jacket on, giving little Miral a gentle pat on the head as she rounded the counter to follow Tom out into the corridor.

Much to the collective disappointment of the rest of the crew gathered in the mess hall, if the loud annoyed groans were any indication…

******

Stepping onto the bridge behind Tom, Seven took her place at the aft science station, finding her gaze inevitably being drawn to Kathryn as the older woman looked up at her as she entered.

“Seven,” she acknowledged “what do you make of this?” she nodded towards the viewscreen.

Frowning, Seven slowly came down to stand by Kathryn’s side.

“Well,” she began slowly “you don’t see that every day”

On the viewscreen a planet hung in space, the surface was dull and brown, clearly a dead world, but what was clearly wreckage of other debris floated in orbit over the planet, some of the wreckage was still burning, the bright orange-red glow highlighting what had once been a small fleet of ships, which had been torn apart by some unknown cause.

“Captain,” Tuvok spoke up “I’ve scanned the planet’s surface, analysis had revealed evidence of the presence of large cities and a highly-developed infrastructure,” he explained “however, I can find no evidence of the cities themselves” he added.

“Confirmed,” Harry spoke up, peering intently at his own console “I’m also picking up traces of weapons fire,” he looked up grimly “it’s Borg” he announced.

“Red alert,” Chakotay ordered “shields up”

As the ambient lighting dimmed and the red alert klaxons blared out, Seven quickly moved back to the aft science station, running her own scans of the planet’s surface.

“Stand down from red alert,” she called out “the planet’s dead,” she explained “the Collective aren’t here anymore”

“Stand down from red alert” Kathryn nodded. As the room returned to normal, she sighed as she examined the planet.

“Captain,” Seven called out “I’m detecting a deep vein of dilithium on the northernmost continent,” she explained “could be worth checking out” she shrugged.

Kathryn and Chakotay looked between each other, both nodding in silent agreement…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone asks, no the Borg won't be appearing here, just some J/7 slice of life here :=)


	11. Rumors on the Lower Decks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're BACK! Chapter ELEVEN! Be prepared for a surprise at the end of this one! Enjoy! :=)

******

The craters were linked by a series of long, straight lines—presumably the barren remains of roads and highways—all arranged in an intricate web-like pattern, with one crater linked to another by the aforementioned roads and highways, all evidence of a clearly advanced, industrialized society and civilization.

Examining the viewscreen in astrometrics, Seven absently took a sip from her cup of lukewarm tea, letting out a sigh as she set the cup back down.

“Bored, Seven?”

Glancing up as Chakotay came over, she smirked humorlessly, nodding towards the viewscreen.

“I never realized just how _boring_ a mineral survey was before,” she muttered, actually leaning forwards to prop herself up on the console on one elbow, a pose that Chakotay couldn’t ever remember seeing her take before “oh, wait,” she seemed to perk up suddenly “no. No, I was wrong. It’s still boring”

Smirking, Chakotay quickly took a sip from his own cup to hide said smirk

“Well, nobody said that all Starfleet work had to be fun and excitement,” he shrugged “how’re you doing?” he wondered suddenly.

Seven blinked at him, confused.

“Pardon?” she asked.

“How are you feeling?” Chakotay repeated, gesturing towards the viewscreen and its scans of the ravaged planet below.

Seven shrugged as she absently took another sip of her tea.

“I’m honestly trying not to think about it too much,” she admitted. Absently giving her cup a mild swirl, she glanced over at him “how is she?” she asked.

“The Captain’s doing fine,” Chakotay replied, smirking knowing “although, if you’re really interested, why don’t you ask her yourself” he suggested.

Seven scowled.

“Why is it that everyone on this ship now seems hell-bent on playing matchmaker between the two of us?” she wondered.

“Boredom mostly,” Chakotay shrugged “curiosity is also a motivating factor,” he added “the idea of Kathryn Janeway, stalwart Starfleet captain and former Borg drone Seven of Nine in a relationship is a very…,” here he trailed off, pausing thoughtfully “…interesting idea” he finally concluded diplomatically.

“ _‘Interesting’_ ,” Seven repeated slowly “well,” she scowled “that’s very descriptive”

“Well, if you believe the rumors floating around on the lower decks, the two of you have been dating for several years now,” he shrugged. He quickly downed a gulp of coffee to hide his smirk before adding “that’s unless you subscribe to the idea that you’ve both been secretly married for close to ten years”

The look on Seven’s face as she spat out her tea in shock was positively priceless…

******

Harry scowled at his tricorder, giving it an annoyed shake as he tried to orientate himself on the planet’s barren surface. He was still within sight of the other work crews busy mining the dilithium and other valuable minerals from the planet’s crust, but he was still hopelessly lost.

Sighing, he gave in and tapped his combadge.

“Kim to Seven of Nine”

“ _Seven here. Go ahead, Harry_ ”

“I’m lost” Harry admitted.

“ _Define ‘lost’, Harry_ ”

“I picked up a pergeium deposit, but now I can’t find it anymore” he explained.

There was a pause and then a barely-audible sigh.

“ _Five meters to your right,_ ” Seven began “ _then stop at the large rock_ ”

Harry looked around, seeing nothing _but_ large rocks around him.

“ _Which_ large rock?” he asked.

“ _Uh…I’m told that it looks something like a giraffe_ ” he could practically hear her shrug over the comline, which didn’t surprise him all that much, as far as he knew she had probably never seen a giraffe in real life (of course neither had he, but that was neither here nor there).

“A giraffe,” Harry muttered, looking around and quickly spotting a particularly large rock that, if you tilted your head and squinted, could be seen as resembling a giraffe—one with a lopsided neck albeit “found it” he announced, already heading in that direction.

“ _Understood,_ ” Seven replied brightly “ _happy to be of service_ ”

“Thanks,” Harry replied “hey, could you do me one more favor?”

“ _Depends on the favor_ ”

“Send down some lunch?”

Seven chuckled.

“ _I’ll see what I can do_ ” she laughed before the channel closed…

******

Closing the channel with Harry, Seven found herself automatically reaching to open a channel with the bridge, the captain’s ready room specifically. Freezing, she slowly withdrew her hand from the console, letting out a slow, steady breath, but still it tempted her, calling out to her like a siren. She recalled Chakotay's words about the rumors going around the lower decks, rumors which suggested that she and Kathryn had been _married_ for over a decade.

Giving in to temptation, she tapped the console.

“Seven of Nine to Janeway”

“ _What can I do for you, Seven?_ ” Kathryn replied evenly and the sound of that smoky, husky voice sent shivers down Seven’s spine, making her skin tingle, and before she could stop herself she was speaking.

“I was wondering if you’d like to join me for dinner tonight” she asked.

“ _Certainly,_ ” Kathryn replied “ _my quarters or yours?_ ”

“Mine,” Seven replied “1900 hours”

“ _1900 hours,_ ” Kathryn confirmed “ _I’ll be there_ ”

“Acknowledged” closing the channel, Seven buried her face in her hands and groaned…

******

Seated behind her desk, coffee cup still held rather-limply in her hands, Kathryn frowned, mulling over Seven’s offer. She had never invited Kathryn over to dinner before, she had accepted invites from Kathryn, certainly, but she had never to Kathryn’s recollection, not even in recent years, and despite herself, Kathryn couldn’t help the tiny bubble of hope from blooming in her chest.

No, it was probably perfectly innocent, she told herself, probably at The Doctor’s insistence no less, Seven didn’t see her that way, she saw Kathryn as a mentor, a mother figure, but not as a potential romantic partner.

Regardless, she still needed to figure out what to wear…


	12. Playing Dress Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter TWELVE!! Enjoy! :=)

******

Seven assessed her closet with its meager selection. Fashion had never been one of her strong suits, she preferred practical, comfortable clothing, that was why she had continued to wear her biosuts for so long, even after her skin had fully regenerated, it had been familiar, closefitting like the implants and exo-plating that had once clung to her form, and now, more than a decade after her liberation from the Collective, she had transitioned to plan, earth toned garments.

Idly flicking through the rack of clothing (more out of boredom and lack of anything better to do), she finally gave up and, wandering back into the living area, collapsed onto the couch with a long drawn out and tired sigh when the chime rang.

“Come in” she called out.

“Hey,” Tom stuck his head through the doors “got your message, what’s the problem?” he asked.

“I have a date” Seven admitted, rolling up into a sitting position.

“Oh?” Tom asked, his interest clearly piqued “and would this date be with a certain older redhead by any chance?”

“Possibly,” Seven admitted, a pretty blush tainting her features “but right now I need help choosing an outfit” she explained.

“And you called… _me?_ ” Tom asked slowly, clearly skeptical.

“Look, it was either you or Harry,” Seven explained “and unlike Harry you know how to keep a secret”

“Who says?” Tom scoffed.

Seven marched up to him, holding up her left hand, fingers gently curled inwards in a clearly threatening gesture.

“My assimilation tubules” she told him, her tone deathly serious.

They both grinned at each other.

“All right, calm down there, you dork,” Tom chuckled “come on, let’s see what you’ve got in your closet” he grinned, leading her back into the bedroom area…

******

Meanwhile, one deck up, Kathryn was in a similar predicament, she’d even spent some of her saved up replicator rations to replicate some nice looking dresses only to discard them as soon as she put them on.

Hands on her hips, she sighed as she studied the array of discarded dresses scattered about her quarters. What was she doing? This was probably a perfectly innocent dinner, like the dozens of others she and Seven had over the years, there was absolutely _nothing_ to be concerned about.

Now if only she could actually convince herself of that statement then she’d be golden…

******

“Well?” Seven nervously tugged at the hem of the dress she was wearing, looking up at Tom expectantly. The dress was a deep red in color—almost burgundy—with full sleeves and a low neckline that showed off the expanse of skin on her upper chest while only hinting at any cleavage. The outfit was completed with a pair of dark stockings and a pair of matching leather, knee-high boots. As usual, Seven wore no makeup or jewelry but had agreed to style her hair a little, adding a bit of a wave to her blonde locks.

“Well?” she repeated as Tom continued staring and had yet to say anything.

“Sorry,” he shook his head “just reminding myself that I’m a happily married man”

“Tom!”

“Relax,” Tom assured her “you look _great_ ,” he praised “I think you’re going to knock her socks off” he grinned.

“That’s good, right?” she asked hopefully.

“That’s _very_ good,” Tom beamed. He reached out, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze “relax, just be yourself” he advised her as he turned to leave.

“Be myself,” she repeated “right. I can do that…I think” she muttered.

“Make her something nice for dinner,” Tom added before he disappeared through the doors, suddenly poking his head back inside “nothing with garlic or onions” he warned.

“Why not?” Seven asked.

“Just think about that for a second” Tom grinned.

Seven frowned, her eyes suddenly going wide.

“ _Tom!!_ ” she shrieked.

Tom only laughed as he ducked the pillow she lobbed in his direction…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm going draw this out as much as possible, because I'm just that sort of person :=)


	13. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're BACK!! Chapter THIRTEEN!! Enjoy! :=)

******

Kathryn threw her latest choice outfit aside, huffing out an annoyed breath as she did so. Scowling as she watched the fabric billow in the air as it fluttered down onto the bed, Kathryn checked her terminal for the time.

****

**18:55hrs**

She was supposed to meet Seven at 19:00 hours and she still had yet to settle on what to wear. Scowling at her own lack of decisiveness, she grabbed a pair of plain grey slacks and a neat white button-down blouse and threw them on, slipping on a comfortable pair of loafers. Deciding to forego any makeup, she made her way to the replicator and, taking a slow, steadying breath, requested a bottle of wine.

Gathering up the bottle, she gave it and her outfit a final leery look before stepping out…

******

Meanwhile, Seven was adding a handful of diced broccoli to the sizzling pan when the chime rang.

“Computer, who is outside?”

“ _Captain Janeway_ ”

Taking a slow breath, Seven turned down the heat and stripped off her apron.

“Be yourself,” she muttered “be yourself,” she told herself. Taking a breath, she straightened her spine “come in” she called out.

Stepping through the doors, Kathryn was momentarily struck dumb by the image of Seven. Her first thought was a stunned _‘she looks stunning’_ quickly followed by a complete and total shutdown of all higher thought functions. Wordlessly, she held out the bottle of wine, which Seven took with an equal amount of lack of speech.

For a moment they simply stood there, staring at one another before something in Kathryn’s head regained functionality.

“I, uh, brought some wine” she finally stammered out.

“Oh,” Seven blinked, looking down at the bottle still in her hands as if noticing it for the first time “thank you,” she said. Not sure what to do next, she set the bottle aside and went back to the pan “uh, have a seat” she offered, as if an afterthought.

“Thanks,” taking a seat on one of the barstools next to the kitchenette, Kathryn absently propped herself up on one elbow as she watched Seven cook, her movements surprisingly gentle yet still efficient “so,” Kathryn began “what’s on the menu?”

“I thought I’d try my hand at stir-fry” Seven replied.

“Oh? And how are you doing?” Kathryn wondered.

“We’ll see,” Seven replied dubiously “oh,” seemingly remembering the wine, she quickly uncorked it, replicating a wine glass and pouring some of the wine into it before handing it to Kathryn “there we are”

“You’re not having any?” Kathryn asked as she took the glass.

“I don’t like wine” Seven shook her head.

“But you do drink?” Kathryn asked, somewhat surprised. She hadn’t been entirely sure if Seven drank alcohol at all.

“On occasion,” Seven nodded, going back to tending the sizzling pan “I still can’t handle synthohol, but surprisingly I can handle real alcohol with ease” she explained.

“Ironic,” Kathryn noted “so, what do you drink if not wine?” she wondered.

“Bourbon” Seven shrugged.

“Really?” Kathryn hoped that she didn’t look too shocked; she’d always assumed that Seven would’ve been the type for go for an occasional beer or perhaps wine coolers but not bourbon.

“Really,” Seven nodded. Taking the pan off the heat, she absently slipped the apron off and, setting it aside, leaned against the counter towards Kathryn “what are we doing here?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Kathryn admitted, looking away from Seven’s piercing blues “I thought you’d be the one to answer that, you invited me here” she noted

“I did,” Seven nodded, now looking away “actually, I did that because…,” she trailed off, taking a deep, steadying breath before continuing “…because of certain rumors about…us” she admitted softly, so softly that Kathryn almost didn’t hear her.

“Rumors?” she asked, equally as softly.

“About our…relationship” Seven explained hesitantly.

Kathryn stiffened, suddenly finding the contents of her wine glass incredibly fascinating as she absently swirled the wine.

“I see,” she finally said “and what exactly do those rumors say about us?”

Now Seven looked away, absently toying with a napkin.

“The…general…consensus seems to be that we’re…romantically involved,” she explained “and that we have been for…some time now” she added.

“I see,” Kathryn repeated “and so you invited me for dinner to do…what, exactly?”

In answer, Seven slowly, tentatively, reached out, resting her hand atop Kathryn’s and, when the other woman didn’t pull away, gently curled their fingers together, smiling shyly.

Kathryn returned the smile, gently tugging Seven’s hand towards her, placing her other hand atop them.

“Funny, isn’t it?” she mused “all this time, and I never knew that you felt the same”

“How could you not?” Seven laughed “I spend half my days all but drooling whenever you’re around”

“I guess I just always assumed that you saw me more as a…maternal figure” Kathryn admitted.

“I’ve _never_ seen you as a maternal figure,” Seven scoffed “at least not to me anyway”

“Well I hid my feelings well” Kathryn chuckled.

“I guess so,” Seven chuckled “and here I always thought that you never saw me as anything other than your pupil”

“I did at first,” Kathryn nodded “but, as time went on, well…” she trailed off, a blush tainting her cheeks.

Seven blushed in response, reaching out to place her other hand atop Kathryn’s.

“So, are we still on for dinner?” Seven asked softly.

“Definitely” Kathryn grinned…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the end, close, but not the end :=)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought :=)


End file.
